Desperate
by cherryredchucks
Summary: Lana dumps Clark and he tries to get her back, but the question is: Is Lana what he wants? FiNiShEd
1. Cracked Desks

"I lost her," Clark moans softly as he rests his head on the desk. He lifts his head and I can see his eyes are red from crying. He looks to me for sympathy. I stare back at him. I can't do it. I can't be sorry Lana dumped him for the latest jock. I can't do more than try and put some look of sympathy on my face and give a small smile. He lands his head on the desk with a loud thump and with the force he puts into this motion, I could swear I hear the desk crack. I get up from my desk and rest my hand on his shoulder. His body racks as another sob escapes from his lips. It is entirely too unsettling to watch your best friend cry. Especially if your best friend is a guy. And is six foot one inch. And could probably beat the crap out of anyone. It is wrong to see your best friend in so much pain and for you to be secretly dancing with joy. It was bad enough to watch Clark go out with Lana for three months. Now I have to watch him freaking out because the vapid girl he was "in love with" dumped him. I have to by sympathetic. I have to act like I am actually sorry that she broke up with him. I have to pretend that I am not actually secretly hoping that he is desperate and scared and emotionally broken so he might do something he might regret (I do not say "we" because if he kissed me, I would certainly not regret it). I stroke his hair. So soft it seems to drip off my fingers. He is so numb, his body doesn't even register this contact and his body goes very still, aside from the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The Torch office is eerily quiet. Quiet. Torch Room. Someone call Ripley's.  
  
"C'mon Clark. Clark? Clark. Clark. Clark, look at me," He raises his eyes and he finally seems to register that I am indeed in the room. "Clark, c'mon. It's Lana. She wasn't the one. She obviously doesn't know how great you are or she would never have broken up with you." She's also obviously blind. Would you break up with Clark "I have abs so well defined I would probably give an old woman a heart attack if she saw me shirtless" Kent? Yeah, I didn't think so.  
  
"But she did. She broke up with me for.Jeremy Bryant." The 6'3'' red head with the blue eyes and the BMW convertible. Sure, he's cute. Sure, his car is awesome. But he has about six brain cells: one for breathing, one for talking, one for walking, one for blinking, one for playing basketball, and one for kissing. Those are about all I've seen him do. Whereas Clark is 6'1'' of pure golden flesh, sculpted to absolute Greek god-like stature (oh lord, I have spent SO much time staring at him, I am starting to sound pathetic) not to mention having both a great personality and an ample intelligence. Although I must deduct points since he CAN NOT tell that I have a crush on him (though I would call it love) and have been since that day in 8th Grade. Smart Kent, real smart.  
  
"Jeremy's a loser. She'll realize this and dump him, too. Come on Clark, we're going to go for ice cream. Chocolate solves all."  
  
"The Sullivan family motto." Clark somehow manages to work through the heart-wrenching pain of his break-up to make fun of me. True friendship and amiability right here.  
  
We iwouldi/ have gotten here sooner had Clark not made us walk through two back alleys to avoid passing by the Talon. But forty-five minutes later, we're sitting on the window-ledge in his barn and eating ice cream, our legs tapping against the barn walls.  
  
"So tell me what happened." One more lick of chocolate. Listening to my best friend tell me about his break-up with the girl I hate will require some extra caffeine. He stares off into the distance and sighs. I wait patiently. One thing about Clark is that you can't push him. You have to wait for him to talk to you or he won't at all.  
  
"I was walking her home. We were on her porch. She was wearing that little pink sweater set with the lace," Which one? She has about twenty pink sweater sets. Focus Chloe! "And I was about to kiss her good night. God, she was a great kisser. I mean, they were always so sweet and soft. Best kisser ever." Okay Clark, move off this topic before I push you off the ledge. And don't think I won't. "I leaned in and she stopped me and said we needed to talk. I knew this was going to be bad since nothing good ever starts with the phrase 'We need to talk'. So we sat down on the porch bench and she proceeded to tell me that the spark had gone out of our relationship and that she wanted to end it. Then she gave me a little kiss on the cheek and went inside. I heard from Amy Brene that the real reason why she broke up with me was because she thought I wasn't good enough." A teardrop falls onto his vanilla cone and his voice cracks a little as he says "enough" but other than that, he is strong. Strong as steel. He's a man of steel. Or a boy of very hard plastic. I put my arm around his shoulder and let him rest his head on my shoulder. I have to keep myself from smelling his hair. Oh okay, I did. And it smells really good. Really really good. I should stop now. One more whiff.  
  
"I'm sorry, Clark." Well a lot of bloody good that does.  
  
"Thanks, Chloe. You want me to drive you home?"  
  
"No, no. I've got to make a stop at Mrs. Sumislawski's house and ask her about something for my mom. I'll call you later. You going to be okay?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well okay, I'll see you later."  
  
"Hey Chloe?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks. You really mean a lot to me. You're like the sister I never had." Clark smiles as he turns back to the sky. Sister. Lucky me. 


	2. Nefarious

Clark is here. In my bedroom. He just climbed through the window.  
  
"Chloe, I love you. I always have. I always will. You're so much better than Lana. And you're so much better for me." I, feeling my heart melt into a puddle of goo, just stutter and let my jaw drop. Suddenly I am very self- conscious about my flannel pajama pants and my gray tank top. But fortunately, I have no time to think about this as Clark takes advantage of my open mouth and kisses me. And suddenly, I'm on fire. Every nerve on my lips is lit up like a Christmas tree. He runs his tongue along my lips and I give him silent permission. He kisses me harder, his tongue exploring my mouth and a feel a groan escape from my lips. Just two hours earlier, he was complaining about Lana and suddenly he's making out with me. He pulls away and smiles, both of us are breathing hard, then.  
  
"CHLOE! CHLOE WAKE UP!" What? What? What? I was- that was just a-you mean he didn't really.Fuck. I knew it was WAY too good to be true. Whoever woke me up is in dire need of a kick in the ass.  
  
"Clark? Clark for god's sake, its eight o'clock on a Saturday morning!" I stick my head out he window and involuntarily shiver as the crisp fall air seems to slap me in the face.  
  
"Chloe, I need to talk to you! It's an emergency." And I need to sleep.  
  
"Are you bleeding?"  
  
"Well.no."  
  
"Is your house on fire?"  
  
"Um.no."  
  
"Is anyone about to be killed?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then it's not an emergency. See you in four hours." I start to close my window but Clark calls out my name. This time though, he holds it out and I just can't seem to say no when he says my name like that. I really should get a better control over my hormones.  
  
"Clark. Give me twenty minutes. And I'm expecting for you to buy me at least one cup of coffee."  
  
Why does that boy have so much control over me? Why? Oh God, my hair looks like Alfalfa from Little Rascals. Down hair, down. Geez, not even my hair obeys me.  
  
"You owe me." I remind Clark for like the 50th time as we started walking down towards town.  
  
"I know."  
  
"I mean, I am expecting for you to name your first born Chloe, regardless of its sex."  
  
"Even if it's a boy? Then it'll hate me."  
  
"That is your punishment for waking me up so goddamn early on a Saturday." He just smiles down at me and laughs. Ooooh, swoony swoon. Right foot. Left foot. Must remember how to walk without hurting myself.  
  
"The Beanery is still closed." Well thank you, Captain Obvious.  
  
"So?" Coffee is coffee no matter where you get it.  
  
"So where else can we go?"  
  
"What about the T-"Oh right, the whole Clark is single and hurting thing. Right. I feel really bad for forgetting. Quick Chloe, damage control! ".The Kent estate. We can have coffee at your house. And you can tell me what this whole big emergency is." Clark seems to stop being all mopey at this idea.  
  
"Good idea." Oh, the smile. This walk will be way too short.  
  
"All better?" Clark asks as he pours me another cup of coffee. I smile up at him appreciatively and invite him to sit next to me. We're on the steps outside his house with two mugs and a fresh pot of coffee. He's wearing this really nice blue shirt which shows off his totally toned stomach and let me say once again that Clark Kent is indeed the hottest boy alive. He sits down beside me and I feel my heart quicken when I smell his shampoo again. Must control urge to sniff him. That puts a bit of an awkward spin on any friendship.  
  
"So what's this big emergency that robbed me of my precious sleep?"  
  
"I'm going to win her back." If I didn't need this caffeine so badly, I would spit out my coffee. He's going to win LANA BACK???  
  
"Um, not to be a bitch or anything, but why?"  
  
"Because I love her. We're supposed to be together." Oh, poor delusional Clark, don't you see that you and I are the only ones who are supposed to be together? No, of course you don't because you've yet to figure it out that I am a girl. And you also haven't figured out that I am in love with you. Not that I'd want you to know.  
  
"Clark, have you ever considered that maybe Lana isn't the one?" This only seems to depress him more. I rest my hand on his shoulder and he looks me in the eye. Oh, God, bad idea Chloe. He could ask you to smuggle crack into Canada dressed as a llama and you'd do it right now because those eyes are so.incredible.  
  
"Fine Clark, I'll help you. Now what is this nefarious scheme that will win her back?"  
  
Why do I feel like I'm going to regret this? 


	3. Dr Laura and Judge Judy

They shouldn't call it Monday. Monday seems much too naïve, too innocent. It does not convey the evilness behind it. They should call it Suckday instead. That would be more befitting of such a horrible day. As if being in high school wasn't hard enough, I have to toss being a social outcast and being in love with my best friend into the equation. Not to mention the fact that now I am helping my aforementioned best friend/love interest to win back the girl who dumped him. How, you ask?  
  
I'm dating him.  
  
Well, at least I'm pretending to. I don't think the idea of dating me has ever crossed Clark's mind. But now, Martha has been spiking Clark's milk because he seems to think that by pretending to date me, Lana will get jealous and want Clark back.  
  
Yeah... right. Sure Clark, and after that, I'll be elected homecoming queen. I don't think I've ever had the power to make ANYONE jealous. But Clark (being on some sort of spiked milk induced high) thinks that I will make Lana jealous enough to dump her new boyfriend. Right Clark. Have you gotten hit in the head with any farm implements lately?  
  
"Ready?"  
  
If by 'ready' than you mean 'Are you ready to go make a jackass of yourself today in front of the entire student body?' then no.  
  
"You didn't have to pick me up. I mean, I CAN drive." Clark opens the door to his pick-up truck for me and I somehow manage to climb in. They do not make trucks for us vertically challenged people, apparently.  
  
"That's what boyfriends do, remember?"  
  
"Sorry Clark, but I don't have the vast experience that you do."  
  
"So you know what the plan is, right?"  
  
"Uh no, Clark. I think that maybe this time I'll get it. I just can't seem to pick up on things until you explain them to me 21 times. 20 just isn't enough."  
  
"Very funny."  
  
"I know I am. But sure, for the hell of it. I mean, there's nothing good on the radio."  
  
"Well I was going to tell you anyway. This is really important Chloe."  
  
I know it's important, Clark. Your whole high school career hinges on my abilities as an actress. And my abilities to keep my hormones in check.  
  
"I know Clark. I'm supposed to pretend to be your girlfriend. You asked me out on Friday night. We went to the movies in Metropolis. We went to coffee afterwards, you had an espresso and I had a non-fat, no foam latte. You were wearing your blue flannel shirt and jeans. I was wearing-"  
  
"Okay, okay, okay, I get it. You know what you're doing!"  
  
It's about time.  
  
"I'm not a moron Clark."  
  
Unlike your last girlfriend.  
  
"Well, here we go. You ready?"  
  
'As I'll ever be." He takes my hand as he helps me out of the truck. His huge tan hand seems to swallow mine whole and I feel like my hands are going to slide right out of his. As he puts his arm around my shoulder, I feel myself give an involuntary shiver. If I'm not careful, I may melt into a puddle of Chloe. Already we're getting some looks. Pete is talking to some new girl (I think her name is either Katie or Lauren) and does a double take. Ha! He leaves this new girl hanging and runs over to us faster than I've ever seen.  
  
"Uh..Chloe? Clark? Someone going to tell me what's going on?"  
  
"Pete, you can put your eyes back in your head now."  
  
"What is going on? Clark, you just broke up with Lana and now you're dating our best friend? Something very weird is going on here."  
  
"Uh-well-uh-I" Clark Kent, Master of words.  
  
"Pete, shut up and listen. Clark wants Lana back. I'm a girl. So we're pretending we're dating to make Lana jealous."  
  
"But.why?"  
  
"Because you'd look ridiculous in a dress and you and Clark dating would just be weird, not envious."  
  
"I meant why are you two doing this?"  
  
"Because it will make Lana jealous. I've got to go to geometry. I'll see you at lunch, Chlo! Bye Pete!" Clark gives me a quick hug and runs off towards the school building. Pete folds his arms across his chest. Time for me to try an escape maneuver of some sort. Pete must be part bloodhound because he somehow manages to follow me through the masses of our fellow students to my locker.  
  
"The better question to be asking you, Chloe, is WHY are you doing this?" Pete slams my locker shut so that I can't hide inside. He knows me and my defense maneuvers all too well.  
  
"Because Clark is our best friend and he needs my help." Pete seems to grin even wider. I know that I've walked right into his trap.  
  
"Friend? Really Chloe, because if you feel the same way about all your friends as you do about Clark, then I'm surprised you haven't jumped me yet."  
  
As if I wasn't flushed enough from contact with Clark Kent, my cheeks have now gone past red and have created some new color. In fact, I think Crayola makes this shade of red. It's called "Mortification and semi-hatred to best friend over other best friend who is sexy as all get out."  
  
"Pete, do I have to take away your speaking privileges?"  
  
" No, you have to tell me why you're doing this." He seems to quickly change from Judge Judy to Dr. Laura in about three seconds. Pete as Dr. Laura! Pete as Judge Judy! Ack! Bad mental images!  
  
"Fine, I may like-"  
  
"Love." Pete says this with as much conviction as I admit it to my pillow. I could deny it, but with Pete resistance is futile.  
  
"ANYWAY," I give him a look that tells him to shut up. And he does. "I hate to see him hurt. So I'm helping him get..her back. He thinks that somehow I'll make Lana jealous."  
  
"Chloe, you know this will result in much heartache for you."  
  
"Yes I know and I've alerted Ben & Jerry's that there may be a run on their chocolate chip cookie dough once this is through. They are prepared for this future crisis." I start to walk off towards class, leaving Pete in all his judging and doctoring glory.  
  
"Very funny. But Chloe, get out of this while you still can." Pete calls out after me  
  
"You make it sound like I'm going to die!" I shout back.  
  
"You could! From a broken heart!!" 


	4. Keeping Warm

I think that somehow, in the time of only seven days, I have sunk to a new low. In the beginning all was innocent. I had (at some momentary lapse of sanity) agreed to "pretend" to be Clark's girlfriend. "But why is this so bad, Chloe?" you may be asking yourself. Well during this past week, I've held Clark's hand, I've had Clark's arm around my shoulder, I've had Clark showering me with presents but all of this is to create that damn image that we are dating. So even if he may be "gazing lovingly into my eyes" but in reality I know that in his mind, my hair is turning black and growing long and shiny and the eyes he is staring into are changing from hazel to the gold-ish green of another girl. So I sit there and I gaze back. If he were ever to hold my wrist instead of my hand, he would feel my pulse as it races. If he ever got too close, he would hear the blood thumping in my ears. But he doesn't notice. Every time he looks at me, I can't help but feel like he's looking over my shoulder at the petite brunette. And most of the time, he is.  
  
"Clark, you're taking me to a Smallville High football game." I say this with the absolute incredulity, which is coursing, through my veins.  
  
"You could write an article about it." he says, apparently trying to ward off the storm. Wise choice buddy.  
  
"No, that's what sports editors are for. I don't do football. I don't do cheering. In fact, I don't do enthusiasm for any sport whatsoever."  
  
"C'mon Chloe, do this.please! Lana will be there! C'mon!" Then (because he is evil) he gives me the full bright Kent smile. I almost unconsciously shade my eyes, his teeth are so white I'm afraid it will burn my retinas. And of course, in five seconds I find my head nodding of its own accord and my lips forming the word "okay." Then suddenly Clark is ruffling my hair (in that big brotherly way) and running off to class. And I am left here wondering what the hell I have gotten myself into.  
  
Well, here we are. The Smallville High School football game. And let me say this "Whoopty-friggin'-doo." Everyone around me is screaming like if our team wins, the world will be rid of anthrax. Ladies and gentlemen, you all need hobbies. And it's really cold. That crisp fall air has morphed into chilly night air but these people are laughing and cheering like it's the last day of school and the air is warm. Clark holds my hand and I'm grateful for the heat it provides (well, maybe that's not the only reason why). But Clark, Lana will know that you still have a thing for her if you keep looking over your shoulder at her. She may be an evil moron but she does seem to have the ability to notice things (except for the fact that she really needs to stop wearing pink).  
  
"Clark, no matter how many times you look over your shoulder, Lana will still be on the bleacher three rows behind us with her new boyfriend." I remind him bitterly and his cheeks turn red for a second as he realizes that I've noticed his looking. Well duh. You'd have to be blind not to notice his stalker-like ways.  
  
"Sorry Chloe." He mumbles almost incoherently but I (as his best friend) have learned how to decode his mumbles and sighs. In fact, I think I know the boy better than he knows himself. I sit in silence and watch as the Smallville team gets sacked by Central's offense. Or was that defense. Who knows? Slowly I notice that Clark isn't watching the game. Instead he's watching up behind us again.  
  
"Clark?" He doesn't even notice.  
  
"Clark?" I say louder. Still nothing.  
  
"Clark, the cheerleaders are all stripping and now they're asking you to have wild sex with them in the back of the truck." Absolutely nothing. I could make a game out of this. I smack Clark in the head with my hand and he finally remembers that I am, in fact, still here.  
  
"Sorry, it's just." I look back finally and see one of the most frightening sights ever. Lana Lang MAKING OUT with someone. And when I say making out I mean that she seems to have been watching too many vacuum commercials because right now the girl's mouth has been turned into a Hoover. I am surprised that her boyfriend is not currently being sucked into her mouth. She sure as hell is trying to. I look at Clark and he has this look of absolute longing on his face that is enough to make anyone want to kiss him. He does this little pouty thing with his lower lip that makes him look like he should be supermodel and not just an average farmboy. And at that exact second when Clark is looking behind him at Lana and I am currently studying his (oh so kissable) lips, Lana turns around and looks down at us. Uh Clark? What are you doing? And suddenly I find myself (for the third time in my sixteen years of existence) attatched to Clark Kent at the lips. Whoa. I'm sitting here quietly minding my own business (and fantasizing about making out with Clark) and suddenly here I am KISSING Clark Kent. This is.incredible. I am kissing Clark. I can almost see Lana's face go red. Of course, I am seeing fireworks currently as I KISS my best friend (and Dawson's-Creek-like love interest). Oh my god. Oh my god. And one of us has just MOANED! MOANED! And suddenly Clark is pulled back and I'm staring at him and I'm trying to remember how to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Right. Got it. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! I just TOTALLY kissed him. HIM! The guy that I have had MANY dreams about. And he is looking at me. And I am basically positive that I should call Satan on my cell phone and ask if he's cold because hell has frozen over since I have kissed Clark. His cheeks seem to go past the red color and have now gone somewhere into the purple area, he is blushing so hard. I can only imagine that my face resembles that of an extremely ripe tomato. But I am allowed to blush since that was totally NOT expected.  
  
"Uh, I...uh...yeah...uh" Clark stammers a bit and i think that even his hands are blushing.  
  
"That was....uh.....yeah.....I" and apparently I have lost the ability to speak as well because my mouth still tastes like Clark and I don't really want to spoil it. And now he's getting up but has not given me back my hand so I'm being pulled somewhere. Maybe to the truck for a repeat...SHUT UP BRAIN!! 


	5. Not A Kiss

Author's Note: My goodness people! What is UP with the lack of Chlark in this category?! Does NO ONE want the spunky reporter and adorable farmboy to get together? I mean what in the name of pantyhose is going on?!?!??! Okay, ending rant now.  
  
Disclaimer: Yes, I, a 15 year old high school sophomore, own the multi- million dollar nationally acclaimed TV show of Smallville. Everyday at the 3:10 dismissal bell, I fly off in my jet and produce this week's episode. Sure, and Lana's parents are alive and well.....  
  
Clark still is yet to let go of my hand. He hasn't even looked back once to see if I'm okay (which I'm not). For all he knows, I could have wrestled my hand away from the Kent Death Grip and substituted someone else's hand. He could be dragging some guy around for all he knows. He's just lucky I'm not all that strong. Finally Clark decides that we're going to go home so he opens the door to the truck for me then closes it and jogs to the other side. As he's getting in, my reporter side refuses to be kept silent and I find myself asking him what just happened.  
  
"I'm-I'm not sure" Clark says, his eyes on the road. He refuses to look at me but I can tell he knows the importance of what he just did.  
  
"Well you're going to have to give me a little more of an indication. Because I'm basically positive that you just kissed me." Ha! That was not a kiss! That was transference of electrical energy! That was a life-altering experience! That, my friends, was the fuel for the rest of my dreams for the next ten years of my life!  
  
"I know that Chloe," he says with a small grin. Well yeah, duh, I mean we were kind of connected at the lips.  
  
"But?"  
  
"But, I mean, I don't know. I just saw Lana with Jeremy and I don't know it was like I just kind of instinctively did it. I mean, I know we never talked about it as part of the plan, but you have to admit, it served its purpose." I laugh silently as I remember the all too vivid coloring of Lana's cheeks when she saw what was happening in front of her. I don't think the girl gets that excited unless someone is asking her about her parents (who are dead)."I promise I won't do it again"  
  
I sigh quietly. "It's okay Clark. I'll see you tomorrow." The truck's cab seems so warm and comfortable right now. Even if Clark can't see or feel them, there's sparks in this car right now. As I put my hand on the door handle, the metal seems cold. The night air is freezing outside and I want to jump back into the truck. To be alone with Clark again. But I know that nothing will happen again. He promised and while Clark has a tendency to go back on his promises, I know this is one he won't break. "Bye Clark." I say quietly as I close the door. He smiles one last time and I run towards the house. Note to self: No more football games.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*  
  
I was actually happy for a few seconds when I woke up. I was reliving the kiss in my dream but then all of a sudden I started hearing:  
  
What a mess our lives turned out to be  
  
It was at its best when you and I were only 3  
  
We can start with all the things that turn us out  
  
And we can go right down the list and throw them out  
  
Can we start over?  
  
It's over  
  
Here you are and there's where you wanna be  
  
But don't think you don't have company  
  
Think of all the lonely people in the world  
  
And if it's God who made us why we so damn cruel  
  
And since I know that the guy who does the annoying "GO FIGHT WIN!" songs over the loudspeaker at the games would NEVER play Abandoned Pools, I deduced that it was my alarm clock. And I was right. So I woke up and realized that A) the kiss was not a dream (YAY!) B) The kiss was unintentional (BOO!) and C) That today is only Thursday and not Friday (BOO!). So this means that I still have to see Clark. Blah. This will not be fun. 


	6. When The Veins Stay In The Skin

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! As per StEvesTimeForLove's request, here is a chapter in which we delve into Clark's point of view on what's been going on....  
  
P.S. Thanks to all the reviewers. Sorry about the short chapter before. This school I go to, they have this wacky and pointless thing called homework and I have to do it if I want to graduate. Damn nazis......  
  
Disclaimer: Wait, let me check.....::pulls out pockets to reveal that they are empty:: Yep, still broke and still don't own 'em.  
  
Pros of living on a farm:  
  
Fresh milk  
  
Nice scenery  
  
The smell of hay  
  
Cons:  
  
5 a.m. wake-up call  
  
The Chores  
  
The fact that when you go to bed, you probably smell like at least three different types of livestock  
  
"CLARK! YOU'RE LATE! AGAIN!" ah! The usual morning wake-up call. Who needs an alarm clock when you've got Martha Kent: Part time working mom, full time drill sergeant.  
  
"I'm coming mom!" I yell back, turning over and closing my eyes. I still have five minutes more before I really have to panic...  
  
"No you're not! You're still in bed! Get up NOW!" okay, I thought I was supposed to be the one with the x-ray vision.  
  
Pulling myself out of bed, I go through my closet. Flannel. Flannel. More Flannel. Obviously, there's a trend here. Maybe just a pair of jeans and a T-shirt would be easier. But it's cold and if I showed up in just the T- shirt I'd have to do the whole "constantly shivering" act and I don't feel up to it today.  
  
"CLARK! If you're not down here in two minutes, I'm gonna come up there myself!" Hell's fury, thy name is mom. I run down the stairs, running my fingers through my hair as I turn the corner into the kitchen. Mom has a glass of orange juice and a pop tart set out for me.  
  
"Thanks mom." I eat quickly and open the door to reveal Pete, his hand in the air, ready to knock.  
  
"Hey man! We're gonna be late, the bus is about to leave." Pete grabs my arm and gives me a shove in the right direction. Wait. School. School means students, which means Chloe. Damn it. Chloe.  
  
"C'mon Clark man! You're going slower than my grandmother going uphill. What's wrong with you? Meteor rocks in the cereal?" Pete asks with a laugh.  
  
"Well, um, actually...I'm kind of having a small issue with Chloe and my grand master scheme." Pete gets this look on his face that looks like a REALLY smug Pete. I've got a feeling he's going to enjoy watching me squirm.  
  
"Out with it, Clark"  
  
"IkissedChloelastnight." I say quickly, almost flinching from the wrath that I know is coming my way. Pete sits down next to me as the bus lurches into motion. His jaw is hanging wide open. Great. Maybe I'd better check his pulse. I don't think that explaining to the police that I accidentally killed my best friend by shock. That might be a little difficult.  
  
"Clark?" Pete says slowly, "You kissed Chloe. Chloe. Our funny, pretty, smart, sarcastic as hell, best friend CHLOE! Now look, I was fine with your little scheme. I figured 'Eh, what the hell? It's Clark. He's responsible. He won't do anything too stupid.' WELL CONGRAGULATIONS CLARK! YOU'VE PROVED ME WRONG!"  
  
'Hey, it's not like I planned this!" I say, my tone rising as I get a little more scared. Pete may be small but he knows how to use a strategically placed guilt punch.  
  
"I know you didn't plan this Clark. I am WELL AWARE that you didn't plan this. You know how I know this? Because you, my oblivious friend, would NEVER kiss Chloe Sullivan."  
  
"What do you mean oblivious?"  
  
"I mean, Clark, that you have the observation skills of a brick. Chloe likes you. Chloe likes you A LOT. Chloe HAS liked you for a while. But you have been so busy looking through your telescope at the unattainable princess that you never swung the stupid thing around to see what was right in front of you. And now, you've hurt her. I know you've hurt her. Because if I were her, I'd be hurt."  
  
Pete looks mad. Very mad. Even madder than when his little sister Cynthia was being picked on by some kid in her class. Even madder than when he found out my secret. Really really really really mad. And if I wasn't invincible, I'd be running to the back of the bus in fear of having the shit kicked out of me by him.  
  
But what he said is currently flying through my head at about 90 miles an hour. Chloe likes me. Chloe likes me a lot. Chloe has liked me for a while. Chloe, my sweet, smart, funny, pretty-WHOA! WHEN DID CHLOE BECOME PRETTY? Well, I mean, she is. She's got this sort of glow to her face and the way she walks and the way that she talks that makes her gorgeous. Not to mention those eyes...okay wow, now I'm officially weirded out. I'm totally daydreaming about my best friend. My partner in crime. My BEST FRIEND.  
  
"Pete. I'm sorry." That's the best I can do. The bus comes to a slow and squeaky halt in front of the school. The sea of students floods out the doors and Pete and I find ourselves in the tail end of the current. By the time we reach my locker, Pete's purple coloring in the face has subsided and he looks less like he's going to kill me. Or at least try to.  
  
"Clark. What are you doing?"  
  
"Uh, I'm putting my books away Pete. What does it look like I'm doing?"  
  
"No you doofus, what are you doing WITH CHLOE?"  
  
"She's helping me get Lana back."  
  
"And that's it?" Pete has his arms crossed over his chest. He looks like one of Lex's security guards.  
  
"That's all."  
  
"Good. See you in geometry." He leaves and I breathe a sigh of relief. But I've got this feeling in the pit of my stomach. Really bad. Almost like there's a meteor rock around here. Check the hand....no, the veins are staying under the skin. The last time I felt this bad was when I was seven and I broke mom's vase and I told her that Pete had done it. But that would mean that I've lied. But I haven't lied. Have I? I mean, I meant what I said about Chloe. I don't feel anything besides platonic love. Right? I mean, just because I saw fireworks when I kissed her, just because she made my hair stand up on ends, just because I've been happier with her these past few weeks than I've ever been before, that doesn't mean anything. Right? Right. Ohhh stomach ache.....  
  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/  
  
"I haven't seen Chloe all day" I tell Pete as we walk out the double doors of Smallville High School. "Have you?"  
  
"Nah man, she called in sick. Something about a bad headache. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, now would you?" Pete takes on this smug tone and raises an eyebrow in my direction. I feel the color and heat rising to my cheeks.  
  
"Oh." I manage to say quietly.  
  
"Well, I believe I see my ride. Call me later!" Pete says as a blue convertible pulls up with a pretty girl in the front seat. "New girl. Kathryn Kirkland. Transferred from Gotham. Sexy car, even sexier girl!" Pete whispers conspiratorially to me as he opens the passenger side door. I watch them drive off together laughing. As soon as the parking lot is empty I take the back road to my house and run the full way there. I take a seat on the front porch steps. The day is nice, with a cold wind softly passing by my face and the sky seems even bluer than usual. I wonder if Chloe is up to any visitors today. Maybe she'd like some flowers. I think mom has some daisies in the back garden. They're Chloe's favorite. WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT CHLOE SO MUCH???  
  
"Hi Clark." Lana! The sweet soft voice of Lana Lang.  
  
"L-Lana, hi!" Nice work of keeping your cool there, Kent.  
  
"Clark, I need to talk to you." She says softly, sitting down next to me.  
  
"Sure Lana what is it?" Please don't let it be her parents. Please don't let it be her parents. Please don't let it be her parents. Please don't let it be her-  
  
"I broke up with Jeremy." She says quickly, meeting my eyes. What? God? I believe I can hear the angels singing. Must control HUGE grin threatening to escape.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, when I saw you and Chloe at the game I got really jealous and I realized that I missed you Clark. Let's get back together." She twirls a piece of hair innocently around her finger. Damn her and her beautiful big doe eyes.  
  
"Do you mean it?" I say softly. Then she kisses me. Me and Lana, back together. Me and my dream girl. Together forever. Could things get any better? 


	7. Cold Tile Floor

A/N: The plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. Here's a REALLY short chapter that I JUST HAD to type out.  
  
I am sixteen years old. I am a grown girl. I should have a more mature way of dealing with my emotions. More mature than, say, hiding under a blanket in your room. I mean, first I skip school then I proceed to spend the entire day watching brat pack movies and shouting at the screen every time the main character finds true love. In high school. Damn true love. Oh crap, phone ringing. Where are you phone? Phone? Ah ha! In the usual spot, under my pile of clean laundry.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Chloe! Hey, how are you?" Pete! Yay it's Pete!  
  
"I'm okay. My headache has subsided slightly. I ate some ice cream."  
  
"Chloe, the American Medical Association does not recognize Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Cookie Dough ice cream as a reliable form of combat against headaches."  
  
"Yes, but no other method fails more effectively!" I listen to him laugh under his breath and smile.  
  
"So Chloe," he says softly, "I just talked to Clark. And he told me about the kiss and he also told me..." I feel my headache coming back.  
  
"What did he say Pete?" I can feel the hostility creeping slowly into my voice.  
  
"He and Lana....they're...back....together." He finishes, obviously through gritted teeth. Oh my stomach.  
  
"Oh my god." I whisper, "I've got to go Pete, I'm sorry" I hang up the phone and make it to the bathroom just in time to throw up. Why? Why? Then the tears come, The crystal drops run down my cheeks in almost torrential streams. I feel so sick, I can feel my whole body shaking. I lie back on the cold tile floor and stare at the ceiling. I feel so hot. And so sick. And my head is pounding. Why? God, why on earth did you let me kiss Clark only to have him be yanked away from me? I think I'm gonna be sick again.....  
  
A/N: Sorry to be so cruel as to include...ugh....Clana in my last chapter (but hey! It got you to review!) And I'm sorry about what I did to Chloe in this chapter. Honestly, this happened to me once. A guy I liked for a REALLY long time ended going out with my ex best friend and this was my reaction. Bad times. But the next chapter should be...interesting. Review! If I get to 50 reviews, then I'll post a new chapter...... 


	8. Botox Injections, Cinnamon, and Saucers

A/N: Wow! I got it! 50 reviews!! ::does little happy dance:: I never knew I was loved so much.....And please forgive me for my lack of song-making skills.  
  
~***~**~*~***~**~*~***~**~*~***~**~*~***~**~*~***~**~*~***~**~*~***~**~*~*** ~**~*~ Chloe's POV:  
  
The landscape looks blurry to me and I rub the flat of my palms against my eyelids again. The sleep is still in them, clouding my vision, making everything around me seem to be in a surreal haze. Hah. If only it was surreal. But it's not. I know this because I spent an hour last night praising the porcelain god that is my toilet. In other words, throwing up the two pints of Ben &Jerry's I had (the cheerleading squad would be proud). Then my dad came home and he could tell I had been having a bad day (but since he knows about the wrath of teenage girls he didn't ask) and he made me my favorite dinner. After dinner, the doorbell rang and I found another pint of Ben &Jerry's with a little note saying that it was from Pete. That made things a lot better. Then dad sat and watched Some Kind Of Wonderful with me. He hates that movie but he knows I love it so he sat and held me in his arms and watched the whole thing with me. I love my daddy.  
  
Pete sits down next me and lays his head on my shoulder, sticking out his lower lip to appear even more pathetic. He feels my pain. Now why can't Clark?  
  
"I'm sorry Chloe."  
  
"Yeah me too, but hey, it's his choice. I just thought that maybe he might have felt the sparks that I felt when we kissed."  
  
"Chloe, I think he felt them. He just is still yet to accept the fact that denial is not just a river in Egypt." I laugh softly at this. If I were ever to have an older brother I'd want him to be just like Pete. The bus stops abruptly in front of the school with a lurch which sends me forward to hit my head on the back of the seat in front of me. An excellent indication of the forthcoming day.  
  
By lunchtime I'm sick of this school. I'm sick of the evil social class system. I'm sick of the jocks that enjoy shouting out to other girls just what they think of their asses. And I'm DEFINITELY sick of the cheerleading squad starting rumors that I'm a lesbian and that's why Clark and I aren't going out anymore. So of course, by 3 p.m. I'm about ready to kill anyone who gets in my way of the Torch office door. But oh wait, there's still yet another hell to endure before I can escape to the sweet retreat of my coffee cup and my computer.  
  
"Hi Chloe!" The sugary sweet and saccharine voice of one Miss Lana Lang. She and Clark are both smiling, though Clark's smile isn't his usual "OH MY FRICKIN' GOD! I'M TOUCHING LANA LANG! I'M BREATHING THE SAME AIR AS HER!!!!!" smile. I try and smile back but either I'm still to sick too my stomach to do it or someone has been sneaking in Botox injections while I sleep.  
  
"Hey Lana, Clark" I say as I stick my head back into my locker. If I can't see them then they can't see me. If I can't see them then they can't see me. If I can't see them-  
  
"I just was coming by to say I'm sorry for breaking you and Clark up." Are you kidding me? I seriously doubt you were sorry. You were probably just mad that there was ONE guy who liked me and not you. Well you got him back so you can leave me the hell alone.  
  
"Um..yeah...thanks" I manage. Now all I've got to do is control my hands from grabbing her neck and beating her to the ground. Clark suddenly looks very uncomfortable. Hee hee hee.  
  
"I mean, I didn't really thing you guys were too serious. You two had been going out for only, what, a month? And then that night at the game, when I saw you two kiss....." OH MY GOD! WILL SHE EVER SHUT UP? I know, I'll listen to a nice little song in my head. Yes. A little song in my head. Oh Clarky can't you see? You and I are meant to be? Lana is a mind controller! I'd run her over with a steamroller! La la la la la! Tired of sealing up my feelings with a cork! I'll hit Lana with a pitchfork! Okay, this is really not working. Guess I'd better listen to what she has to say.  
  
"...so you see, I really am sorry."  
  
"It's okay Lana. I've got to go. The Torch won't print itself, you know."  
  
"Oh, okay. But you're still going to come to my Christmas party at the Talon, right?" Christmas party? That will mean Clark and Lana with mistletoe....  
  
"Oh, I don't know if I can...I mean....I've...."  
  
"I won't take no for an answer! It's on Saturday at seven. See you then!" Oh great. Faboo. Why don't I just shoot myself in the head now and be done with it?  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~* Clark's POV:  
  
So lucky. I am currently the envy of every guy at Smallville High School. I am dating Lana Lang. And currently, we're making out on her couch. Her lips taste like honey. Figures. She's sweet enough to give anyone a toothache, why wouldn't her lips be the same. And her mouth tastes like......mint. A very faint mingling between mint and honey. Somehow, it doesn't seem as nice as it did before. I wish that she tasted like cinnamon or strawberries. Why that? Lana has never tasted like anything but honey. But something else.....Chloe! She had on strawberry lip-gloss. It made me feel warm (well maybe it wasn't just the lip-gloss that was making me warm) and it reminded me of summer. And her mouth tasted like cinnamon. Sweet, spicy, and all encompassing. Just like Chloe. Oh my god, I'm sitting on the couch making out with my girlfriend and all I can think of is Chloe. This is not good. Not good at all.  
  
"I've missed you Clark" Lana says with a little smile as she stands up. She pats her hair down and kisses me softly on the lips. "I've got to run. I still have to decorate the Talon for the party! Don't forget! Seven o'clock tonight!" She walks me to the door and gives me a ride home. As I get out of the car, she grabs my hand and pulls me in for another kiss. Still missing something. I watch as her car pulls out of the driveway and makes its way down the road. What is missing? Why is there some spark missing that was once there?  
  
"Hi Clark. I finished ironing your shirt. It's upstairs on your bed. And for goodness sake, can't you do something about that hair of yours? It's always in your eyes," Mom says as she brushes a piece of hair away from my forehead. Of course mom has to get up on the balls of her feet to do so. The kitchen is warm and smells of apple pie. Mom's been making pies again. And the streak of flour from where mom fixed my hair proves she's been doing it from scratch.  
  
"Thanks mom!" I run up the stairs as fast as I can without setting the carpet runner on fire. Did that once. Wasn't pretty. I stare at myself in the mirror. Two hours till the party. Two hours until I see Lana again. Two hours until I see Chloe again. Why did my stomach do somersaults when I thought about Chloe's smile? Why does my heart feel anxious to see her? One thing I know, that's that tonight is gonna be interesting.  
  
~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~ **~**~**  
  
Chloe's POV:  
  
Okay. Why am I here? I mean, why did I actually COME to this party? I mean, Pete got grounded so he won't be here. Clark is here, but he's with Lana and because I like my eyes just where they are I won't force myself to gouge them out with a plastic utensil after seeing Clark and Lana kiss. I don't even feel like I fit in here. I must be the only person here not wearing a sweater or a dress. I thought my deep red shirt with the little beads at the sleeves would look nice with my black skirt, and it did. But obviously I've dressed incorrectly. So here I am, sitting by the punch table. Listening to music and watching as everyone around me laughs and hangs on the arm of their date. I have to admit Lana did a nice job decorating. Little Christmas trees with tiny silver bells and working lights adorn every table as well as paper snowflakes and silver glitter. Fake snow and icicles hang from the columns, which looks strange against the warm and glowing colors as a fire in the fireplace dances on the ceiling. There are even little pieces of mistletoe. I shove one in my pocket. Out of sight out of mind.  
  
"Miss Sullivan, nice to see you again." A smooth voice catches me off guard and I jump in my seat. As I turn around I see the slightly amused face of Lex Luthor. "I didn't mean to scare you."  
  
"I'm not. Should I be?" I return, gesturing to the seat across from me. He sits down with the same grace that seems to flow from all his movements. The man reminds me of ice skaters. Everything he does has a purpose and has a flowing smoothness to it. He can also be as cold as ice...  
  
"Are you enjoying the party?" He asks. I nod and he smirks a little. "I was surprised to see you come alone. I thought that you and Clark had hit it off finally."  
  
"You sound disappointed, Mr. Luthor" I reply casually, trying to keep myself from wincing as the kiss resurfaces in my mind.  
  
"Please, my father is Mr. Luthor. I'm Lex" he says, smiling slightly.  
  
"Then I'm Chloe." I reply. He takes a sip from the glass in his hand and turns back to me.  
  
"But back to your question, I am disappointed." He says as he stirs his drink. He doesn't bother to look up. I'm glad because I think that my eyes are the size of saucers.  
  
"But you were always trying to get them together...."  
  
"Merely to prove to him how wrong he was. It doesn't pay to argue with someone Miss Sulli-Chloe. It won't change their minds. So if you go along with them, they learn for themselves. I always thought you and Clark were much better suited for one another." He says and for once, I think he has genuinely smiled at me.  
  
"Oh" is all I can manage to say.  
  
"If you'll excuse me, I believe I see a friend of mine. Very nice talking to you, Chloe."  
  
"Good bye Lex" I say, shaking my head slightly. I can't believe it. Someone thought Clark and I should get together. Well too bad it won't happen. Where's the bathroom? I'm sure that my make-up needs a touch up.....oh crap.  
  
"Chloe! Hi!" Lana again. I had been successful in avoiding her up until now.  
  
"Hello Lana, Clark" I say trying to smile.  
  
"How are you?" She says brightly. She's always bright. Can't she ever be dark?  
  
"fine. Great party!" I add quickly.  
  
"Yes I'm having a great time." She says, slipping her arm into the crook of Clark's arm and kissing his cheek. He seems to stiffen up a little at this.  
  
"I'm glad. But I'm afraid I was just leaving. I have a terrible headache. Good bye Lana and thank you for inviting me" I say quickly. I'm not going to spend another minute of watching those two. I grab my coat off my chair and walk quickly out. Snow flakes float lazily on my face. They seem to drift down slowly, fully aware of how the entire town will shut down because of them. The streets are lined with snow and my boots make a crunching noise as I start to walk home. Merry friggin' Christmas to me. 


	9. Sylvia Plath and Charles Dickens

A/N: :: smiles:: hee hee hee. I think that all you Chlark fans will be enjoying this.... Happy Holidays everyone! And remember the much loved Christmas song "I saw Chloe kissing Clarky poo, underneath the mistletoe......"  
  
I shiver involuntarily as I shove my hands into my pockets. What's this? Mistletoe? Oh that's just great. Not only am I a heartsick teenager, but I'm also a kleptomaniac? Next thing you know, the caffeine will catch up to me and I'll become a meteor mutant. Oh great. Now I'm crying. Fabulous, with my luck, they'll freeze to my face and I'll end up with what looks like sparkly pimples. Okay, now I am not going to cry. I'll sing myself a nice little song.  
  
"When I saw the break of day  
  
I wished that I could fly away  
  
Instead of kneeling in the sand  
  
Catching teardrops in my hand  
  
My heart is drenched in wine  
  
But you'll be on my mind  
  
Forever  
  
Out across the endless sea  
  
I would die in ecstasy  
  
But I'll be a bag of bones  
  
Driving down the road alone  
  
My heart is drenched in wine  
  
But you'll be on my mind  
  
Forever  
  
Something has to make you run  
  
I don't know why I didn't come  
  
I feel as empty as a drum  
  
I don't know why I didn't come  
  
I don't know why I didn't come"  
  
And obviously music doesn't hold the same healing power for me that it does for everyone else...Either that or Norah Jones and I both need some Prozac. Either way, I'm still left sitting down the street from the Talon, watching the immense fluorescent sign bite into the night air. Watching the sky with a soundtrack of the Christmas carols that seem to float through the glass doors and wash the street with a shimmering glow. Falling snow sprinkles my eyelashes and melts before I can try to see it. All in all, it's all very Charles Dickens-esque and I almost expect to see Tiny Tim limp up to me. Though with the mood I'm in, I'd probably kick the crutch out from under him. Gimpy is going down. But that's enough of that. Part of me says that I should just walk home. Get it over with. But a part of me is still almost hopeful that someone will come out of those doors and tell me to come back inside. But everyone is so drunk off the eggnog or is so busy making out under the mistletoe that I doubt anyone has even noticed my absence. Somehow, my vision falls on the mistletoe I threw in the snow. Hah. My love life. Hopes and dreams thrown into icy cold reality. Trampled by other people and likely to shrivel up and die before the night is over. Wow, that's dark. Sylvia Plath would be proud.  
  
Damn you Clark Kent. Damn you for making me fall in love with you. Damn you for making me get weak in the knees whenever you smile at me. Damn you for making every ounce of self-confidence I have in me go flying out the window when you talk to me. And most of all, damn you for not letting me be able to be mad at you.  
  
=~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~=  
  
Where is Chloe going? One minute she's here and then Lana has to go and get all cuddly in front of her and suddenly she's gone. I was hoping I could talk to her and now she has left and I've missed my chance. She looked really nice tonight. Maybe we could've danced. Maybe we could've danced and I could've maneuvered us under the mistletoe and....okay now that was wrong. Lana good. Chloe bad. Lana good. Chloe bad. Lana bad. Chloe good. DAMN IT!  
  
"Clark!" Lana stands in front of me, with her hands on her hips, trying to look intimidating. It doesn't work for her. She can't show emotions.  
  
"Yeah Lana?" Right okay focus on your girlfriend. Focus on her pretty brown hair. Focus on her lips. Focus on her gorgeous bright green eyes....wait Lana's eyes are hazel. DAMN IT DON'T THINK ABOUT CHLOE!  
  
"Are we gonna dance or not?"  
  
"Of course." She takes my hand and leads me onto the dance floor Why do things seem so awkward now? It's like I don't know where to put my arms or my hands and I don't know how to hold Lana. It doesn't seem natural to me. But Lana seems to remember. She holds me close and I can smell her shampoo. It smells like roses. Sweet, wild roses that turn pink in the noon sun. Pink. Like Lana. Chloe's hair smelled like vanilla. Warm, soothing, comforting vanilla like a towel fresh out of the dryer. God, why do I keep thinking about her? Why do I keep thinking about her face and the way she smiles and how soft her hands are and good she tastes and how warm she feels when I'm cold and how cool she feels when I'm warm? Why is it that I wake up late at night and stare at the stars, wondering what she's dreaming about. Things were so much simpler before. Before what? Before....before I screwed up. Before I asked her to help me lie. Before I started pretending about us. Before.......before we kissed and before my world started spinning. Oh god. I'm in love with her. I'm realizing this NOW as I'm holding LANA, girl of my dreams, in my arms? Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god. What the hell do I do??  
  
"Clark?" Lana says softly, bringing me back to reality.  
  
"Lana, I-we need to talk." Lana looks at me confusedly and follows me as I lead her into one of the empty back storage rooms. Oh man. I'm breaking up with a girl. My first break-up. A real Kodak moment.  
  
"What is it Clark?" Okay, must breathe. Hey, I think I'm developing a new power here! Super sweat! Because I can't seem to stop and I'm sure that my hands must look like Niagara Falls by now.  
  
"Lana, it's about us. I-I think we should break up." Wow, I never thought I'd hear myself say that. I better go look out the window for flying pigs.  
  
"What? Clark? Why?" She looks absolutely dumbstruck. The whole open mouth big-eyed thing isn't too attractive either.  
  
"Because, I'm in love with someone else."  
  
"Who?" Uh oh.  
  
"Chloe. I'm sorry Lana, but I have to go." And so I leave her, alone in the storage room. And I find myself running through the crowd of people in the Talon and running out into the street. Now I've just got to find Chloe.....  
  
=~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~= =~*~=  
  
I wonder who the first person was that saw a cow and thought "Hmm I think I'll squeeze those little dangly things over there and drink whatever comes out?" Maybe he was really thirsty. Or drunk. Or both. Hah. I never knew the brain could affect my cold so much. Wait, Cold could affect my brain so much. Bah. I need coffee. I need to watch "Carrie" again because obviously I still am yet to capture that whole "concentrate really hard and make objects burst into flame" talent. Or else Lana's head would be charred by now. And now that I think about it, probably so would have Clark's. But then comes the whole question about if someone has the ability to set stuff on fire with his or her mind, can someone extinguish flaming stuff with their minds? Thought that is not as cool. Probably they'd make a lame superhero. "Look everyone! It's Fire-Extinguisher Boy! He's a real WET BLANKET! Ha ha ha ha." Oh my god, what the hell was in that coffee I drank earlier? Okay, no. I' m going home now. I will go home and put on my black yoga pants, which I purchased when I went through that whole "I want to be healthy" phase. That abruptly ended when someone told me caffeine was unhealthy and that I would have to give it up. Ooh, and I'll put on a nice tank top and maybe one of my mom's old flannel shirts that I wear because it's too big and still smells like her. Then I will sit on my front porch and I can make snowballs and throw them at the big maple tree in my front yard and pretend that it's Lana. Or Clark. Either way, the cold is really messing with my head and I'm going home.  
  
"Chloe! Chloe! For God's sake Chloe, SLOW DOWN!!" Ooh this will be fun. I have gotten so cold that now I am hearing voices. Maybe soon I will be hearing Elvis. Or Yoda. "Mmmm screwed in love, you are." Damn little green dude. But wait, maybe I'm having hallucinations too because now Clark is running behind me. Well at least it's Clark and I'm not hallucinating about dead presidents. I think I'd start crying if I suddenly saw Richard Nixon in front of me.  
  
"Chloe!" this hallucination is quite life-like, as it has just grabbed my arm. Maybe it's a hologram. NASA has actually not been looking into space exploration but has instead been working on really good holograms of teenage farmers in Kansas. It makes perfect sense.  
  
"Clark?"  
  
"Chloe, didn't you hear me calling you?" Yes, and I thought that I had snapped. Again.  
  
"No. Sorry. So where's Lana?" Blah, bad taste in my mouth just because of her name.  
  
"She's back at the Talon But that's not important. Why did you run?" His hands feel really nice on my shoulders. Kinda warm. Like they're sending heat through my entire body. Pulsating from the one point of contact. Okay, no we hate Clark. Time to work on that whole bursting into flames thing.....Not working.  
  
"I didn't run." I say defensively.  
  
"You could have been the poster girl for the new Nike commercial." He says with a smile. When did Clark get witty?  
  
"I could not." Oh the comebacks are really intelligent today....  
  
"I believe that the song has now been re-done to be 'Run Chloe Run'"  
  
"Okay, so tell me Clark, did you leave the warmth of the Talon and Lana's embrace just to come out and mock me? Because if so, I have finger that can tell you just how I feel..." Clark looks hurt by this momentarily. But he doesn't let go of my shoulders. I'm almost on fire from his touch. I am SO pathetic.  
  
"Chloe, I screwed up. Big time."  
  
"What do you mean? You're not going to tell me that you just killed someone and now you have to go far, far away and change your name to Joe Smith because you can't afford to live here and-"  
  
"Chloe, stop." Damn rambling problem. "Chloe, I screwed up with you. I screwed up with Lana. I should have never asked you to lie and say that we were dating. But at the same time, it was the greatest thing I could ever have done."  
  
Huh. I'm speechless. Great..... I can feel the anger rising inside of me. He comes out here to drag painful memories up once more. What right does he have to do this?  
  
"When we kissed it was like my whole body was on fire. Like someone had shocked me. It was-"  
  
"Clark, please. Stop. You're with Lana. And you know what, that hurts. It hurts to think about you. It hurts to think about her. And most of all, it hurts that we kissed. Now please leave me alone." I yell, tears stinging at my eyes. I wrench out of his grasp and start walking even faster. God, I hate this.  
  
"Chloe! NO! Wait! Geezes, Chloe!" He races after me." Ugh.  
  
"Clark, what do I have to get you to understand? You hurt me. You hurt me all the time. You hurt me when you talk to me. You hurt me when you kiss her. You hurt me when you smile at me. You hurt me when you leave me, and I'M SO FUCKING SICK OF IT! I said that you always saved me. You were always there, but DAMN IT CLARK! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT YOU'RE ALSO THE ONE THAT'S KILLING ME?! Go back to your party. Go back to Lana. Just go." And with that I storm off once again. But suddenly Clark grabs me and spins me around. And I'm kissing him again. Oh god, even better than last time. He's holding me so tight, like I'm going to disappear if he lets go. And his hands are in my hair and his arms are around me and his lips are so soft and yielding. And I can't remember how to breathe. And.....no......no ......not again. I push him off of me and wipe my mouth. And suddenly the air is so cold again. I want to grab him close and never ever feel chilled again.  
  
"What the hell was that for?" Amazing. My acting skills are getting really good. Summoning up anger when the rest of my body feels like jelly.  
  
"Chloe, I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you. But I'm NOT sorry for kissing you. You made me realize just how in love with you I am. I love you Chloe. Not in the brotherly way. In the way that makes me not want to eat ever again just so that my lips will always taste like you."  
  
"THAT'S THE WORST PART! You never leave me. It's like I can feel you beside me, even when you're not. You're always there. I can smell your hair, feel your hands, taste your lips and sometimes it makes me want to scream to know that it's only in my mind." I say loudly, the tears streaming down my cheeks freely now.  
  
"Chloe, don't you get it? When I looked into Lana's eyes, all I saw was color. But when I look into yours I see a thousand stars, I see your beautiful heart and I see the girl that I fell in love with. And I wish that I were the only one allowed to look into your eyes. I wish I were the only one who could see your soul. I don't want to share you. I want you only to be mine." He pleads with me desperately and I can feel my anger melting away.  
  
"Is this a joke?" I ask quietly.  
  
"No." he replies. The snow is drifting down again and I watch as the flakes drop and collect on his lashes, in his hair. And I love him. Oh god, I love him. "I need you Chloe. You're my next breath. You're my lifeline and god knows I'd die if I was to lose you again."  
  
"But Lana. Your dream girl...." Excellent. I can no longer speak past one syllable. Let the good times roll.  
  
"Lana was my dream, but you are my reality. She's gone. I want to be with you. I want to hold you close and I never ever ever ever want to let you go." He says softly. And I can't help it, but I step closer to him.  
  
"Clark, you have to promise me that you won't run back to her, because if you do, I honestly don't think I could take it." I look into his eyes and he wipes one of the tears that have been running down my cheeks away. He smiles and kisses me softly.  
  
"If I could, I would erase your pain. I'd hold you close and never let the world touch you again. I'd hold you while you slept and I'd kiss away your tears. And I don't know if I can because I'm not a super man but I sure as hell want to try....." He whispers in my ear and I have to control myself from having a spasm. His warm breath on my ear is enough to make me grab him and kiss him. He steps even closer and reaches into his pocket. It's the mistletoe I threw out in my Sylvia Plath mood. He holds it over my head and leans in close so that there's only a centimeter between us.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Chloe" he says before he leans in. And he kisses me. And suddenly it's like we're melted together, there's no space between us. Two people kissing in the moonlight beneath the falling snow. Norman Rockwell and Charles Dickens would be proud. 


End file.
